


alone we traveled on with nothing but a shadow

by whataboutfedal



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Country AU, Cowboys, Implied homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 04:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17379572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutfedal/pseuds/whataboutfedal
Summary: Morgan's thighs ached bone deep, beyond the causes of endless riding. This was continuous wear and little respite, years of being pushed past limits. It threaded along his back and through he shoulders till the very tips of his semi warmed fingers."We're getting old, eh?"Jake scoffed, but his eyes told the truth of understanding, "You're only twenty-four, Mo."( or; the not-really brokeback mountain au )





	alone we traveled on with nothing but a shadow

**Author's Note:**

> not edited 
> 
> title from mountain sound by of monsters and men

Morgan's breath billowed from between his chapped lips, plumes of opaque white that churned with the steam from his old camp mug, before disappearing into the quickly darkening night. Evaporating into nothing as the cold air claimed what little warmth was surviving its deathly grip.

The chipped ceramic mug only held plain old boiled water, there weren't enough rations left for much else, maybe he'd have gotten some weak tea, but the water did its duty to thaw Morgan's throat for a few moments, even despite the unpleasant taste. He couldn't help but tuck the heat toward his chest as his blue eyes searched the terrain.

There wasn't much to see from here on the mountain. Not once the fog had its way and blocked the sky and visibility more than a few feet away. It was a miracle they'd still managed the valley on horseback. They'll breach the ridge soon, hopefully the fog will break its barrier and show a clear way.

Wishful thinking, most likely.

Morgan's thighs ached bone deep, beyond the causes of endless riding. This was continuous wear and little respite, years of being pushed past limits. It threaded along his back and through he shoulders till the very tips of his semi warmed fingers. 

He felt Jake's fingers smooth across the shoulders of his fleece jacket, before coming to rest around his neck as he settled beside Morgan on the cold slab of stone that had become their makeshift seating for the night.

"We're getting old, eh?"

Jake scoffed, but his eyes told the truth of understanding, "You're only twenty-four, Mo."

"Certainly doesn't feel like it."

And it didn't. Years of rodeo certainly hadn't done his body any good, and it had no problem letting him know. He'd tasted plenty of dirt and had enough teeth knocked out for a lifetime. Then there were the injuries, things he'd had to pull out with and others he'd rode through.

His family had been bull riders for generations, then it fell to Morgan as an obligation. It wasn't he first choice, but he loved rodeo. It gave him time to think. To escape what his reality was and centre his mind, while pushing his body through its paces. It was traveling across states and borders, away from his family, to places no one knew him. 

There was the other wear and tear, too. The stuff that plagued his dreams and painted twin pillows of grey beneath his eyes. Sometimes Mo's mind ached more than his bones, and that was saying something.

Him and Jake come from different places. They were born on different soil, the blood running through their veins made up of something else. Morgan wanted to say that Jake'd had it easier, maybe he almost had, growing up in Minnesota. But Jake's hands were just as rough. Calloused and big. Morgan knew them like his own, knew them running down his bare sides, against his cock. Jake might have less aches but they bore the same scars.

Jake nuzzled against Morgan's neck, "You coming back inside?"

"Yeah, I just-" Mo watched the behinds of their slow grazing horses, two scrawny bays beyond their prime, but still hardy and loyal. Fit for the rugged landscape and tough job, sturdy. "I'll be in soon."

He cleaned up before going to the tent. Dunked the porridge covered bowls into their tub of icy water to soak overnight and get any stubborn pieces off. He tied their twin pair of border collies up for the night and did one last count of the sheep.

He stopped to straighten up the two sets of well-worn leather tack set down beside the tent, but easy tossed his muddy boots to the side. Both their pairs of shoes were strewn across the crisp grass, but Morgan couldn't find it within him to care. They'd have to check them for snakes later, but they'd probably have done it either way. Habit.

They shared the sleeping bag. It was covered in a layer of stubborn dog hair that sometimes pricked Morgan's skin at night, because sometimes when it got too cold, they let the dogs in the tent. Morgan's father would have a right fit if he knew, but he didn't. Him and Jake were good at secrets. They had to be.

"I have to go down to Nashville, after this."

Jake hm'd, eyes still closed but fingers steadily scrapped along Morgan's scalp, soothingly.

"I'll probably be gone for a few months. I'm not sure when I'll be back again."

There was the unsaid, 'you'll still be here, right?' 

"I'll be here, Mo. I'll always be here when you come home."

"I know."

Deep down he did know, but his mind bucked like the wildest bronco till he fell off, straight down the never ending hole of doubt. It held him captive beneath ropes and behind fences. Caught in something he didn't completely understand, that didn't make sense. Like a mustang in an auction ring.

There was a long pause, where Morgan almost thinks Jake had fallen asleep. But either way he swallows down the lump of trepidation and doubt, letting it churn his stomach, and says what he needs to.

"I love you."

Jake's answer isn't instantaneous, he has to slowly release his fingers from Mo's hair and settle for resting them around his waist before he relieves Morgan of his anxiety.

"I love you, too."

Jake kissed his lips softly, before tugging him into his warm chest and tucking Morgan's head into his neck. They don't fit together like perfect puzzle pieces like in books, but they do figure it out with practiced ease.

Morgan actually feels the moment Jake eventually falls asleep. His grip loosens and let's Morgan fall to his back on the rough floor before he slumps across Morgan's chest.

Morgan could hear the distant stretching howl of wolves, coming from both north and south, replying to each other in equally melancholic tones. Morgan liked to imagine that it was some sort of tragic love story, kept apart by borders and packs, bound by obligation. Only on still nights like this, beneath the guise of fog, could they sing to each other, like some real Romeo & Juliet shit. Or maybe Morgan was just seeing too far into things, relating it to his own life.

So he shifted to his side, letting the scattered bleating of the ewes comfort him. Calming himself with the familiar scent of leather and horse with something distinctly Jake that encompassed him.

Tomorrow was for worrying. Now was for sleeping.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to call this a brokeback mountain au, but I've unfortunately never seen or read it before so.
> 
> This was me trying a different writing style but I'm not sure. Anyway, I would love to hear any feedback, bettering my writing is definitely something I want to do.
> 
> see me on tumblr [@welcometofredex](https://welcometofredex.tumblr.com/)


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